A Story Begins Now

By Jane Carver

The sea’s briny smell washed over them. They made their way onto the pier. He caught a fleeting image of a huge ship anchored beside him. A dozen men and women rushed down a narrow plank.

“What happened?” Windrum’s friend, Jacon, took Darkin into his arms and laid the man on the pier. He examined the body then bowed his head. “Darkin Windrum lies dead, only minutes from sailing to a new home.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jacon patted Vangee’s shoulder when she once again huddled over her father’s body. Gambrel had seen too much death over the years to spend much time in grieving, but he understood this might be one of the few times such loss touched the woman.

Jacon turned to him. “What happened?” He did not accuse Gambrel of anything, only asking for information.

“We were attacked…again. Five men jumped Vangee and me last night. One died.” He noted the look of surprise on Jacon’s face. Was killing for defense so foreign to these people?

“Vangee didn’t kill the man, did she?”

“No. I did. He waited in ambush after four others fled.” When Jacon relaxed, he continued. “Those four came back to get her this morning. My guess is they were going to dart her then kill me. I think they want her alive.”

“Yes, they would.” Jacon didn’t explain further.

“The first few darts missed us, but the last one got the old man.”

Vangee rose as several passengers carried her father’s body up the plank on to the ship. She moved to Jacon’s side but spoke to Gambrel. “He’s gone.” She wrung her hands back and forth. They appeared as troubled as her mind.

Within the hood of gray, a pale face glowed. Faint lines marred her cheeks where tears washed against the pristine white of her skin. Lips the color of bonso wood—a bare suggestion of brown—quivered as she turned to Jacon.

“We can’t delay the sailing to bury him on land. Besides, it’s not safe. They may still be looking for us.” She looked at Gambrel, included him in her concern. “My mother died here at the edge of the docks. Father will be happy to slip quietly beneath the waves of his own world and rest with her until the end comes.”

Such wise words. So hard to say.

Jacon nodded and left. He would arrange the burial. Vangee moved closer to Gambrel as if seeking security. Why? He knew her more than capable of protecting herself.

“I’m sorry for your loss. He seemed like a worthy man.”

She nodded to acknowledge his words.

“Would you stand by my side when we bury Father? He liked you, and you were there when he died. You tried to save him.” While standing so close, Vangee held her head far back in order to see his face.

“If you think it appropriate. But we only met last eve. These knew him far longer. They might not appreciate a stranger being there for something so personal.” Did he want to hang around? The more time he stayed with her, the more he would miss her when the fleet sailed, and he stood on the dock alone.

For some reason, his soul clung to this woman. Why? He couldn’t say. He had yet to see her face so he knew it wasn’t a physical attraction. Her spirit and gentleness appealed to him. Not for the world would he hurt her by refusing her request. If being near helped Vangee through Windrum’s burial then he’d stay. If staying longer made leaving more difficult, that was his problem. She’d never know.

“Would you stay? It matters to me. That’s all that counts. And,” a ghost of a smile crossed her pale lips, “I think Father would have liked you there as well. Please?”

“Aye, lady. I’ll stand by you. Lead on.” He gestured toward the plank. Before they moved forward, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Yes?”

“Look up.”

Her command confused him. But he did as she requested.

The sheer size of the transport before him boggled his mind. Once long ago on Earth a similar ship sailed when he made his rounds as an enforcer. But that in no way resembled the majesty of this vessel. For one thing, it was beautiful even with the sails tied. Clouds shrouded the top of the main mast. Every inch of her polished wood gleamed. Metal fittings reflected the sun with blinding brilliance. A magnificent figurehead proudly sailing toward an unknown future graced the narrow bow. Tiny windows sparkled in the sunlight across the broad stern.

Gambrel’s imagination painted a picture of those sails unfurled and filled with… What? His musings stopped. Astral tides? What were astral tides?

“What think you, sire?” Her question cut into his puzzlement.

“I’ve never seen anything so remarkable.” His words pleased her. She would have questioned him further, but a hail from aboard beckoned them.

“Come, we must bid Father farewell.”

A bit of long forgotten chivalry arose. He held out his arm to her, a support if she needed one. With a nod, she accepted his help. Her hand resting lightly on his forearm, she led him up the plank.

* * * *

“Merlo, a word with you please?” Vangee called the ship’s captain to her side. The farewell for her father drained her energy, but what she would do next was important.

“How may I help you?” A tall slender man with a face full of wrinkles, the captain joined her, stood relaxed, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I wish to put a significant matter before you. When this fleet was proposed, the High Council decided only one hundred passengers, plus twenty crewmen, would sail aboard each vessel. Very practical, considering the time we would spend together and our need for room. One hundred and twenty souls. No more or less. That was written in the fleet’s charter.”

Captain Merlo nodded. All knew the importance of that particular number. Debates had flourished until everyone agreed.

“The Fenix now carries ninety-nine passengers. I ask that you consider taking Gambrel Sarjean as the last traveler for our voyage. Until last night, he was unaware of the critical time involved in leaving our world. My father would be the first to ask this if he were unable to come—as indeed he is.”

“Vangee, I understand your request. Space is available, true. But what do you know about this man? What about his past? Where he comes from? How does he make a living?”

“What does that matter? I met him last night when human animals tried to capture me. Both of us know what would have happened to me if taken. This man showed great courage and strength. I commanded, and he obeyed. He commanded, and I instinctively complied. I would not have done so if he were less than he is. I believe him to be a man worth saving. However, you have the last word.”

“Actually I believe you do. Your father owned the Fenix, and with his death, ownership passed to you.”

“To be honest, Captain, I forgot. But even then, I respect your position as commander of this vessel no matter who holds the claim. Will you consider Sarjean as the last passenger?”

Merlo walked to the railing and peered across the water of the harbor. When he returned, he gave his decision. “We will lose souls on this voyage. We both know this. Ill health, weariness, a desire to stay on a world other than the one we seek. Death. A strong hand and the will to survive will be welcomed. Sign him on the Fenix.” The hard press of her hand on his signaled Merlo’s reward. Those like Vangee Windrum did not express emotions like other beings. That one sign told him how much he pleased her.